


unintended results

by theappleppielifestyle



Category: Marvel 616
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-12
Updated: 2014-01-12
Packaged: 2018-01-08 11:11:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1131950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theappleppielifestyle/pseuds/theappleppielifestyle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony stares at the ceiling, white-knuckling his pockets. <i> I will not get off to Steve jerking it. I will not get off to Steve jerking it. I will not- </i></p><p>That thought is put on hold as something starts to buzz, and Tony has to bite down forcefully on his tongue to stop himself from groaning out loud when he realizes what it is.</p><p>He shakes his head quickly, takes a short breath in and thinks, <i> I will not get off to Steve fucking himself with a vibrator. I will not get off to Steve fucking himself with a vibrator, </i> over and over until Steve’s whimpers, his fucking <i>whimpers,</i> drown out whatever Tony is trying to think.</p>
            </blockquote>





	unintended results

**Author's Note:**

> from this prompt which isn't really a prompt: http://everybodyilovedies.tumblr.com/post/68214414848/steve-spooking-tony-at-night-when-tonys-there-for

It’s funny until it’s really, really not.

Tony’s mouth twitches as he peers through the slats in the cupboard, already imagining what Steve’s face will look like when Tony jumps out. Hopefully, it’s going to be twice as bad as Tony’s was last night, and even more hopefully, Steve isn’t going to throw a punch on instinct. Tony has a press conference the next day, and even the most skilled makeup artists don’t cover black eyes completely, not when it’s Captain America who caused it.

The door opens, and Tony fights down his grin, his hands getting ready to push open the door, scare the shit out of Cap and god willing laugh it off without getting punched in the face.

His hands are pressed flat against the door when he sees Steve starts undoing the buttons on his shirt, and Tony’s hands pause. He watches as Steve strips his shirt off, ball it up and throw it with incredible precision into a laundry basket on the other side of the room, and then start on his pants.

Tony lets his hands drop, and then Steve’s pants are off, and Tony finally manages to get the decency to look away when Steve moves to take off his briefs. Apparently America’s favourite sleeps naked.

 _Okay_ , Tony consoles himself. _This is awkward, but you can handle it. Just wait until he gets into bed and covers himself, then open the door and assure him you weren’t spying on him or anything. It was a harmless prank. You just wanted to get him back for spooking you yesterday._

He’s preparing how he’s going to phrase it when he hears a moan, and freezes. He knows that moan. Well, not that specific moan, but he’s heard variations of it too many times to count from more people than he can remember, and that moan is definitely-

Another moan, and this time Tony can audibly hear the sound of skin on skin, and fuck, nothing he’s been through has prepared him for this.

Captain America- Steve Rogers- is masturbating less than five feet away from Tony, and isn’t aware of Tony’s whereabouts, and oh, god, Steve is going to kick his ass if he ever finds out Tony overheard him jacking off.

At a loss whether it would be better to reveal himself now or stay where he is until Steve has finished, Tony starts going over exactly how he should apologize.

 _It wasn’t my fault. Well, it IS my fault for hiding in your cupboard, but YOU were the one who started masturbating._ Yeah, Tony thinks that would end in a black eye as well.

There’s a rustle of sheets, and Tony hears a draw snick open. He refuses to think about the possible contents of said draw, because it would make the situation a whole lot worse if Tony got an erection during this.

He listens to the familiar snick of a bottle cap being flicked open, and Tony waits for the next skin-on-skin sound to be wetter than before, but instead he hears Steve grunt. The grunt turns into a long, breathy moan that Tony didn’t know Cap could make, and Tony spares a second to wonder what the hell Steve is doing before shoving that thought out of his mind. Tony has breached all kinds of levels of creepy, but he refuses this one.

He doesn’t, however, refuse the level of creepy of getting an erection while listening to his best friend masturbating, because this has been his wet dream since he learned how to use his dick and it’s all Tony can do to bunch his hands in his pockets, stare at the ceiling and pray for a meteor strike.

Tony switches on Extremis, sifting through the rest of the Tower and checking all the rooms, but he can still hear Steve, which is enough to make the connection with the video feed falter.

Several minutes pass, and Steve’s breathing gets heavier until he’s panting. There are the occasional wet sounds, but Tony doesn’t think Steve is doing much with his dick, and also that Tony is going to burn in hell even harder than he was before he hid in Steve’s closet.

Every once in a while, Steve makes a sound like he’s been electrocuted, and whenever it happens Tony’s cock jumps reluctantly in his jeans. Tony silently curses himself for going commando today, because the friction _hurts_ and for a second he wishes he was still drinking so his erection wouldn’t be able to get this hard without his little blue buddy.

Sifting through the empty rooms of the Tower via Extremis  is one of the hardest things Tony has done, he’s completely convinced. It’d be so easy to let his gaze drop in between the slats, maybe slip a hand down his pants, because in this state Tony doesn’t think Steve would notice if a bulldozer raged through the wall.

He doesn’t, though, and stares at the ceiling as the rooms flicker in front of his eyes, white-knuckling his pockets. _I will not get off to Steve jerking it. I will not get off to Steve jerking it. I will not-_

That thought is put on hold as something starts to buzz, and Tony has to bite down forcefully on his tongue to stop himself from groaning out loud when he realizes what it is.

He shakes his head quickly, takes a short breath in and thinks _, I will not get off to Steve fucking himself with a vibrator. I will not get off to Steve fucking himself with a vibrator,_ over and over until Steve’s whimpers, his fucking _whimpers_ , drown out whatever Tony is trying to think.

Tony moves a hand over his mouth to stop his breathing, which is bordering on heavy, from making too much noise, not that he can hear it that well over the sounds that Steve is making, added to the noise of the vibrator.

He closes his eyes when the connection with the video feed blinks out again momentarily, before deciding _fuck it_ , because Tony Stark has done things that are ten times worse than this. He switches off the video feed and drops his gaze to look through the slats.

He’s glad his hand is over his mouth, because he definitely lets out a choked noise when he sees Steve. His legs are spread, his knees are bent as he pushes a bright red vibrator inside him, fast and desperate. Cut-off moans are spilling from his mouth, getting louder and shorter as his pace quickens. He’s shaking all over, his thighs especially, one of which Steve is holding up against his torso.

Tony watches, losing IQ points by the second as Steve’s trembling grip falters on his leg before letting go of it, instead bracing both his feet on the mattress and pressing his hips upwards to push the toy deeper. It slides further into Steve, and Tony is so out of it that he nearly misses it when Steve chokes out a name. Steve’s hand is around his cock now, swiping rough circles over the head when he reaches the tip.

“Tony-”

For a terrifying second, Tony thinks he’s been caught. But then Steve moans again, his face slack with pleasure, and pants, “Tony, _Tony_ , oh-”

Tony’s brain shorts out.

This is closer to Tony’s pubescent fantasies than he dreamed. He’s half-convinced he’s fallen asleep at his desk again and is dreaming the whole thing before his arm snags on a stray nail and the hand over his mouth suppresses a hiss. Okay. Awake, then. Awake and confused and impossibly turned on, and in Steve’s cupboard as the man in question fucks himself with a vibrator and fucks his cock into his fist and moans Tony’s name like he’s imagining it’s Tony doing both of these things, and Tony is about six seconds away from coming in his pants like a fifteen year old.

 _I will not,_ is exactly how far Tony gets before Steve says his name again and Tony decides fuck it for the second time in twenty minutes and shifts the hand that isn’t covering his mouth to rub at the front of his jeans.

Steve gets halfway through Tony’s name before coming spectacularly, back arching, his whole body shaking hard as he rocks into his fist, coming long stripes up his chest.

Seconds after, Tony comes silently, biting down on his palm, his cock spending itself in the front of his pants.

  


Tony waits, come drying in his pants and emotions he really doesn’t want to face building up inside his chest until Steve’s breathing evens out. He waits another ten minutes just to be sure, before slowly easing open the door of the cupboard, waiting another twenty seconds, and then stepping out.

He’s nearly at the door when he feels a hand tighten around the back of his neck, and he doesn’t waste time in blurting, “Shit, don’t, it’s me, it’s Tony.”

The grip on his neck loosens and then Steve is spinning him around, stark naked apart from a pillow that he went to grab when Tony said it was him. “Tony? What the hell are you-”

“Extremis warned me about something in your room,” Tony lies. “I wanted to check to see if you were okay.”

“Tony,” Steve says after a second. “I just saw you walk out of my closet.”

“Oh,” Tony manages. “That’s- yeah.” He takes a breath, and then starts to babble: “It was supposed to be a joke, since you, y’know, made me jump a bit last night, and I was going to hide in your closet and then scare you when you walked in, but then you walked in and started stripping before the door even closed, so I thought it would be awkward if I walked out then, so I just-”

Steve’s face has been getting steadily more flushed as Tony talks, and Tony very nearly loses his train of thought as he remembers the all-over-body blush that Steve had been sporting as his hand worked around his cock.

“I just, stayed there,” Tony finishes lamely, taking absurd pride in how he doesn’t stammer. “And. Looked at the ceiling. And went through Extremis to finish some work. Hey, it’s totally fine,” he adds, and then regrets it completely when Steve’s face gets impossibly redder.

“What’s fine,” Steve says, and it’s more like a rough squeak.

“You. Thinking about me when you’re, uh. I mean, I’m pretty hot, and we’ve been working together for, what, eleven years now? Tensions are bound to, uh. Rise. It’s totally normal for us to think of our teammates when we’re having some alone time, given how much we’re around each other. God knows you’ve made some star appearances in my fantasies when I’m alone in bed.”

The last part falls out of his mouth before he can consider the consequences, and Tony watches Steve’s eyes widen with the knowledge that whatever expression Tony has on is bound to be a thousand times worse.

“You’ve-” Steve stops, stumbles over the next word and gives up. “What?”

It’s not like Tony can say anything worse.

“I’ve, you know. Occasionally. Rubbed one out. Stroked the hog. You might’ve been the person of interest at the time.”

Correction: if there is no ‘worse,’ Tony Stark will invent one. Then he will invent a bigger and better worse than the previous worse, and then announce in front of his best friend that he sometimes jerks off while thinking of him.  

“Maybe more than occasionally,” Tony continues, loathing himself and life and whoever invented cupboards. “Again, it was a complete accident, please don’t hit me.”  
“I’m not gonna hit you,” Steve says, his brows furrowed like he doesn’t know what to make out of this entire situation. “I, uh, you. Uh. Really?”

“...If you haven’t noticed, you’re kind of hot, Steven. And fair warning, I’ll probably never want to spar with you again, because if I do then I’m going to get a raging erection due to your half-nakedness, which will inevitably make me think of what just happened. Which will never happen again. The me-hiding-in-your-closet thing, not the- I mean, I’m sure you’ll do that whenever you feel like it.”

Tony clears his throat, clears it a second time for good measure. “I’m going to go now so we can get on with our lives and never mention this again, did I mention how sorry I was-”

“We could. Mention it,” Steve cuts him off, the blush still going strong, working its way down his chest that Tony has SEEN now. “If you wanted.”  
Tony takes a second to absorb that. “Excuse me?”

“We could mention this again,” Steve says cautiously, like he’s not sure he even wants to say it, and his body language is all shuffling feet and ducked head. “If you-”

“Wanted, yeah, heard that part,” Tony says. “What does that mean?”

“We could- you- Tony, you heard me,” Steve says, obviously struggling to get through it. “And you- saw. And, if you wanted, I thought we could, ah. If you wanted,” he finishes, apparently taking that as an adequate end for a sentence.

To Tony, it’s the best ending of a sentence he’s ever heard. “Seriously?”

Steve squirms a bit, but then he says, “Yeah, of course.”

“When?”

Steve starts. “Uh?”

“Like, I can’t go right now, ‘cause I kind of went off when you were getting busy earlier, which I don’t think I should be blamed for, because oh my GOD, and I’m not young anymore, but I can probably get it up if you come to my room in about… three hours?”

Steve is as red as a- as a red thing, fuck, Tony can’t think right now, but the important thing is Steve stammers for a second and then says, “You could sleep here. Instead of going back to your room. Save us both the walk.” Then he shrugs those gorgeous bare shoulders, and Tony’s dick twitches feebly as he remembers just how naked Steve is right now apart from the pillow in front of his groin.

“My legs are pretty tired,” Tony tries, and Steve’s nervous smile lights up his whole damn face like a Christmas tree.

Steve shuffles over to the bed and is under the covers before placing the pillow up at the head of the bed, and when Tony tells him it’s nothing he hasn’t seen before, he takes the pillow and smacks him lightly in the shoulder with it.

Tony doesn’t bother ducking out of the way of it. He shucks his shirt and his pants, pausing when Steve raises his eyebrow at his lack of underwear. “Like you never go commando, Cap. We’ve all seen you change out of your uniform.”

“It’s tight,” Steve says, eyes on Tony as he slides into bed next to him.

“Oh, we _know_. America thanks you.”

Tony tries a flimsy salute, and Steve chuckles, hesitates for a moment, and then leans in and pecks Tony on the mouth. “See you in the morning?”

“See you in the morning,” Tony replies, and manages not to grin like an idiot when Steve’s big arms slide around him, tugging him so he’s pressed against Steve’s torso.

 


End file.
